


And Now, The (Inclement) Weather

by messyfeathers



Category: Welcome to Night Vale
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Carlos is a Nerd, Cecil is a Dork, M/M, Storms, Typical Night Vale Weirdness, but also just an excuse for cuteness, little bits of canon tied in
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-05
Updated: 2016-04-05
Packaged: 2018-05-31 12:09:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 966
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6469519
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/messyfeathers/pseuds/messyfeathers
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A cute college AU oneshot: in which the weather in Night Vale is a little less melodic and a little more sentient instead..</p>
            </blockquote>





	And Now, The (Inclement) Weather

When the sirens begin to wail, Cecil is half-tempted to stay asleep. In fact, he would have adjusted the pillow to block his hearing and dozed right back off if his roommate hadn’t physically dragged him from the bed.

“This- is- not- a- drill, Cecil!” Steve Carlsberg huffs as he yanks Cecil along by the hand down the twisting hallways of the dorm. Out of pure spite, Cecil wrenches his arm free as soon as they arrive at the bunker and decidedly looks for anywhere to sit that _isn’t_ next to his obnoxious roommate. His eyes settle on a student sitting alone in the far corner of the dim hall. With no forewarning to his unexpected host, Cecil plops to the dirt floor and rests his head only _slightly_ on the stranger’s shoulder. The fabric of the lab coat is stiff and somewhat scratchy, but it beats leaning against the corrugated steel of the bunker wall. His eyes have just drifted back closed when a caramel voice coughs a polite little _hmph_.

“Could you- could you not do that? I’m doing science,” the boy complains with a little shrug of the now-occupied shoulder. Cecil peers up at him innocently from beneath drooping lashes before dropping his gaze to the stranger’s lap. In a smooth motion, he flicks his fingers along the papery edge of the large book the boy has perched between his knees.

“You brought homework to a tornado evacuation?” Cecil drawls as he readjusts to leaning against the cold metal wall behind them.

“I brought _science_ ,” the stranger promptly corrects. Dark eyes glance Cecil over quickly. Fish-patterned boxers, baggy station intern t-shirt, and a single neon sock - he hadn’t even had time to consider changing before evacuating. “Were you sleeping when the sirens went off?” the student asks over the harsh screech from above. Cecil gives a little hum to the affirmative. “You do know it’s 3:00 in the afternoon, right?”

“It’s college,” Cecil retorts with a grin. The other boy snorts an unexpectedly pitchy laugh, and Cecil feels his heart flutter into his throat without warning. “Cecil,” he offers with a hand.

“Carlos,” the student replies, shaking it. The sirens choose that moment to come to an unexpected halt as the lights cut out with a mechanical sigh. Both boys look instinctively upwards into the inky black. Even though they’re not touching, Cecil can sense Carlos go rigid beside him.

“Carlos,” Cecil murmurs, eyes still struggling to find a speck of light in the bunker. “What’s your major?”

“Science,” Carlos breathes hoarsely. Proper manners would dictate that he reciprocate the question, but something suggests Carlos isn’t presently very focused on manners. Cecil decides to continue the conversation regardless.

“I’m a communications major,” he says smoothly. “I talk a lot so I figured I may as well put that to use, y’know?” The sound of dozens of similar hushed conversations fills the bunker with whispers until an unearthly growl from above shakes the earth with a shudder. The bunker falls eerily silent except a small whisper.

“You can lean on my shoulder if you want. I can’t very well do science in the dark.” Cecil grins to himself as he settles back against the scratchy lab coat. Cecil assumes that Carlos just wants the confirmation of something else still existing besides him in the blackness. After nearly ten minutes, the growling gradually gives way to a chorus of howls that echo through the bunker with a shiver. “H-how long do these tornadoes usually last?”

“Well, given that time is a human construct," Cecil yawns, having nearly dozed back off in the lapse of silence, "that’s a bit of an unnecessary question.  But once I experienced one that lasted four days.”

“Four days?!” Carlos squeaks incredulously. “Isn’t it just a weather pattern?”

“I take it you’re not specializing in meteorology,” Cecil teases.

“No, I’m majoring in science,” Carlos repeats with a tone of confusion.

“Well, you can’t really dictate the lifespan of a weather event. After all, a tornado is a conscious, living thing. Killing it would be unethical and also incredibly difficult. Better to let it run its natural course.” Carlos makes a doubtful little noise nearly as cute as his laugh had been. “You don’t have much inclement weather where you transferred from?” Cecil queries as another earth-shaking roar causes Carlos to tense again.

“Not sentient weather,” he mumbles. “Wait, how did you know I transferred here?”

“I was covering the orientation meeting at the start of year,” Cecil replies, projecting the calmest tones he can muster. “They were giving out the t-shirts to the first people to jump onstage and explain why they picked NVU, and you said all those things about us having the best science program in the US.” Carlos lets out another adorable chuckle.

“I can’t believe anyone would remember that. You said ‘covering,’ are you a reporter?” Cecil’s about to respond when Carlos answers his own question. “Wait, the radio! You run that late-night show on the college station. I thought your voice sounded familiar. I listened to your show every night studying for midterms,” Carlos admits. “Chem lab got a little quiet around 2 AM.” Cecil is unspeakably grateful for the darkness, since he’s sure his face has gone six shades of red. Another thundering crash from above, but Cecil can’t focus on the meteorological disaster when his stomach is filled to the brim with butterflies. This time it’s Carlos who nervously tries to distract them in the dark. “A-are you going to do a report on this once it ends?”

Cecil tilts his head just minutely where it rests on Carlos shoulder and inhales the faint scent of lavender chewing gum. It’s unexpected, but somehow perfect. His eyelids flutter closed as he exhales contentedly.

“Absolutely.”

**Author's Note:**

> based on an anonymous prompt I received for a tornado warning in Night Vale! if you enjoyed this, please leave a like or a comment or a lovely little prompt of your own over at [my tumblr](http://ducktelepathy.tumblr.com/)!


End file.
